


Obliviate

by night_books



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Black Brother Angst, Dark Curses, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, I just suck at those, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other, Panic Attacks, Regulus deserves better, Self-Harm, Shifting Lines inspired, Suicide Attempt, Wolfstar being adorable and totally in my way of angst, alternative ending, lots of pain, my summary says nothing about my fic, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:55:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25962442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/night_books/pseuds/night_books
Summary: Sometimes you forget that Reg was just a broken teenager. Abandoned by the people he loved, used by everyone else, everyone underrating his abilities and his cleverness.Regulus takes a turn for the worse in his mental health and Sirius wants to do anything he can to help... which is hard when his brother won't let him come close or share his secrets and feelings--because in his opinion, it's Sirius's fault.
Relationships: Marauders - Relationship, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 37
Kudos: 72





	Obliviate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [somniumfelix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/somniumfelix/gifts).



> Right, so this is a mess and I did not expect for it to become... this. I wanted there to be loads of Angst, instead Wolfstar decided they wanted to cuddle (which, honestly, they have all the rights to. They deserve happiness)
> 
> Felix, my lovely, this is for you. I hope you feel pain reading this ;) love you, don't hate me.
> 
> Tobi... you're amazing. Thank you for creating something so beautiful and literally making my life better. I don't know what i'd do without you guys.
> 
> OK, I hate this, but there it goes!

It started with the usual. Nightmares.

If Sirius was honest, he couldn’t remember even _one_ night he wasn’t plagued by them, and he was certain his little brother had to be the same. How could one not have those cursed dreams, living in a household like this—the Noble and most Ancient House of Black. The difference was that, living where they were living, with the people that raised them, Sirius had not only become used to them, he’d also learned quickly that it was wise to shut up when he woke up… Not to scream or cry the way Remus used to do in school when the nightmares woke him.

Sirius had kept that habit when he’d moved to the Potter’s, not wanting to repay their hospitality and kindness with waking them up at night, and for some reason it had become such a pattern that he even repressed every sound once he’d inherited enough money from his uncle Alphard to move into his own place. He wasn’t sure if that was entirely healthy, but by now he didn’t know any other way.

The sounds tore Sirius from his already uneasy sleep and he immediately sat up, looking around his sparsely furnished living room dimly lit by the rays of moonlight falling through the slit in the curtains, making him think of Remus. So close to Christmas and having to change in a basement at home—how could the world be so cruel to someone so perfect and innocent. Not for the first time Sirius wished he could come with him when he went home, just so Remus didn’t have to endure those nights alone, locked in a dark room with barely enough space for his changed form.

There, another one of those sounds fleeted across the room, barely to be heard, disappearing quickly. It seemed like a… like a sort of helpless whimper. It always took Sirius a second to get his bearings when he woke up but this time he remembered easily. Muttering a curse under his breath, he got up from the couch he’d been sleeping on and crossed the living room barefoot to get to the chamber that was usually his bedroom. The door was ajar and it was easy to peak in without creating too much sound.

The person in his bed was still fast asleep but it wasn’t an easy one. He wasn’t thrashing the way Remus did at his worst, but this sure didn’t look good. He seemed so small when he was asleep, his long black hair spread out on the pillows, his eyes squeezed shut as if in pain, and his fists clenched in the sheets.

Sirius hated seeing his little brother like that.

He crossed the room in an instant, touching him by the shoulder. He’d been careful not to be too harsh or too sudden, but it was hard to find the right way to wake someone up like that. This, apparently, wasn’t the right way. Indeed Regulus opened his eyes, but he also let out a harsh gasp and started thrashing, smacking Sirius right in the face. He barely felt it, being used to way worse treatment, and simply climbed onto the bed, wrapping his arms around his little brother and pulled him onto his lap—just the way he used to calm him down when they had still lived together at Grimmauld Place. It didn’t take long for Regulus to get out of the daze, the remnants of his nightmares slowly dissipating in the stuffy room.

Sirius slowly relaxed, looking down on his brother. “You okay?”

Regulus let out a heavy breath. “Bad dream.” He seemed uncomfortable about this, starting to squirm, and as much as it broke Sirius’s heart to be pushed away by his baby brother, he loosened his grip, Reg rolled to his side, away from Sirius, away from comfort. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine, I don’t sleep much anyways.” Sirius hesitated, tugging on the sheets, shooting looks at his brother. “Do you… wanna talk about it?“

“No.” The answer came even faster than Sirius had expected.

“Okay. Well…” Words weren’t on his side tonight. Where was Lupin when he was needed? “I mean, of course, you don’t have to. But when… when I talked about it with… with my friends, it was actually kinda helpful and—“

“I said _no_.” Regulus voice was so harsh, his words cold and sharp, cutting, like ice shards.

“Alright.” Sirius barely managed to hold back his sigh. “I’m just saying. I’m here if you wanna talk or… not talk.”

Regulus didn’t say anything, barely even moved, but then he gave a minature nod. Sirius growled lowly. How the fuck was he supposed to deal with this? Regulus and he may never have had an amazing relationship, but at least back at Grimmauld Place, his brother would let him talk to him, comfort him, protect him. Now, how was he supposed to do this if Reg kept pulling away? It was like he was slipping, slowly disappearing, not letting Sirius into his life. For a sixteen year old, he was worryingly guarded. Had Sirius been this bad a year ago, too? He knew he had been keeping secrets, but that was to protect his friends and to keep them from doing something stupid with possibly disastrous political consequences. But Regulus and he had never had secrets before. They’d always been there for one another.

Now he was losing him.

Sirius had been thrilled when his brother had agreed to visit him for a couple days, knowing fully that there would be consequences, should Walburga find out where he really was during that time. For now, she was under the impression that he spent that time with Aegis Silverlocke, something Remus had helped arrange which Sirius could have kissed him for—which he had, later on, in the dorms. As long as Walburga herself didn’t come to visit, their cover should be safe.

He had been thrilled, and, theoretically, he still was. But he couldn’t help but wonder just how many more months had to pass until Regulus would completely shut him out for a reason he just couldn’t understand. He didn’t know how much time he had until Regulus didn’t want to see his brother anymore. Until Sirius couldn’t even call him his brother anymore.

He wanted to hug him before he didn’t have that chance anymore. But looking at him like that, Sirius wasn’t sure if even touching him would push him over the edge.

“Look, I really don’t wanna talk, Siri,” Regulus muttered, drawing his legs up and slinging his arms around them, propping his chin up on his knees. “So you can just… go back to sleep. Actually, you know, why don’t you take the bed back, I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re staying here.” Sirius shook his head, reaching out gingerly to touch his brother’s hand. He didn’t shrink back, so he laid his hand on his wrist. “I don’t want you to feel… pushed aside by _anyone_ , you got that?”

“A little too late for that,” Reg muttered, his eyelids fluttering tiredly. “You’re the one who just _left_.”

Sirius flinched, not able to stop staring at his brother. He… supposed he had that coming. But Walburga had become worse and worse over the months of his fifth year summer, and he could not have stayed any longer. It would’ve become dangerous—even more so than before. He was forced to leave, suddenly, abrupt, in the middle of the night, and he’d only just managed to get to the Potter’s before he’d collapsed, his only safe haven that had now become his home.

“And I am still sorry fot that,” he said with a low voice, “I wish I could… do something to help you break away, just say the word and I—”

“Stop it, Sirius.” Regulus shook his head sharply. “You know exactly that’s not how it works! You were lucky, just… just leave it at that.”

He sounded so tired, so… weak. Sirius hated this more than anything; seeing how he was losing his brother, how his brother was losing himself; how he had been the lucky one and Reg just didn’t seem to want to leave the house of horrors he’d been trapped in for so many years.

“Look, Reg,” he started, reaching out again, then hesitated as he felt how hot Regulus’s skin seemed beneath his hand. He furrowed his brow, looking more intently at his brother as he hugged his knees even tighter, “Reg, are you sure you’re alright? You’re a bit warm, maybe you’re running a fever…?”

“No.” Regulus flinched back when Sirius tried to take his wrist and push up his sleeve, wrapping his fingers around it and holding it close to his chest. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Tsk,” Sirius made impatiently.

He got up from the bed and went to the window, pushing away the curtains and opening the window, letting the moonlight and fresh, cool nightair stream into the room, chasing away some of the stuffiness and darkness. Sirius felt Regulus watching him, but when he turned around, Reg quickly glanced away, drawing his arms closer, hugging himself.

“Better, right? This apartment doesn’t do much, but I mean it’s mine. I can actually open the window without…” He hesitated, not sure whether to bring it up in front of him, but he’d already started the sentence and he was sure Regulus understood the reference. “Right. Well, it’s just nice like that.”

Regulus nodded, still hugging is knees, still somewhat glancing away. It hurt in Sirius chest to see him like that.

“Okay,” he finally said, trying to fill the awkward silence. “I’ll just be… in the other room… on the couch, if you need me—”

“I’m fine,” interrupted Regulus, but then quitely added: “But… Thanks.”

“Sure.”

He didn’t close the door when he left, hating the feeling of his brother shutting him out even more than he was already doing so far. He waited just outside the room for a bit, listening to the sounds. Soft rustling of fabric and then Regulus’s breath slowly calming down, getting softer and lighter. Sirius was sure that he wasn’t asleep yet, but all those years at Grimmauld Place had tought them how to be silent after nightfall.

He waited another couple minutes, then finally turned around to leave, grabbing a warm coat and pulling on his boots before he carefully opening and then closing the door behind him. He was just as quiet as he jogged down the stairs and closed the back door, finally stepping out and onto the street.

It was a cool night, cold, icy even. Three days til Christmas and Moony would stop changing tomorrow. Sirius begged that he was alright, but as for now, the person he needed to talk to was not the man of his dreams and hopefully some day soon to be husband. He needed some fresh air.

And he needed his brother.

The flat he’d bought with his uncle’s money was in the nearest city to the Potter’s manor—of course safely guarded from any human eyes walking by—, though he had never been quite sure why he’d done that. Of course, the Potters were his family by now and he was proud to call Euphemia and Fleamont Potter his parents. But even after them telling him repeatedly that he was not imposing, that he was not a burden, that he would always be welcome in their—his—home, he _still_ felt like he was asking for too much.

He got out. He shouldn’t be pushing his luck.

Right?

He’d become very pleased and grateful about how close he was to his home now. He could visit the Potters whenever they invited him, he could pop by with presents in Holiday season… His friends could easily come to his place; the three-room-apartment now so fondly called the Marauder’s flat. He’d always liked being close to them. But never had he been this relieved, this happy, to be able to swing by in the middle of the night, just like that.

It was a little walk from his flat to the manor but he didn’t mind. As he made a beeline around the drunk and/or very tired people just finally coming to their own homes, he was actually glad for the bit of fresh air. It cooled him down, allowing him to think more clearly—also allowing him to start doubting his own thoughts by the time he’d almost reached home. Maybe he’d been overthinking. Reg was sixteen, he was able to make his own choices. Sirius had been sixteen when he’d made some of the best choices his life was blessed with.

And yet…

And yet he could not stop thinking, could not stop worrying as he stepped through the protection barriers and spells, closing the little squeaking gate behind him, hoping that was enough sound to wake James. Maybe he was going crazy about this, maybe he was just worrying too much and pulling everyone he loved into this mess. But he desperately needed someone—a special someone, his brother—to comfort him, hug him, to tell him he wasn’t going insane.

Of course, the squeaking of the gate had _not_ woken James because that moron was able to sleep through an entire thunderstorm. Sirius, being a light sleeper by nature and nurture, had always wondered how people could just do that—not wake at the slightest sound and checking if everything was still in order. Sirius strolled over the lawn, picking up a few pebbles along the way, and had to deal with throwing them against James’s window. It took a while before a tiny light lit behind the almost shut curtains and those were drawn aside, revealing his brother’s tired face as he tried to fix his glasses.

Sirius waved, waiting for the window to open and James to lean out, staring down at him like he was looking at some remnants of his dreams.

“Sirius?”

“Hi,” Sirius shout-whispered, trying to be loud enough for James to hear him and yet quiet enough not to wake his parents. “Sorry, I just had to—”

“Padfoot, what the fuck are you doing at my window in the middle of the night? Is this about Remus or something, cause I gotta tell you, I’m not good dealing with heartbreak—”

“Agh, shut up, Prongs!” Sirius growled, waving again, this time impatiently, and James narrowed his eyes.

“You don’t look so good, mate. Are you alright?” He paled, his hands curling around his windowsill. “Shit, is this about… You’re not—Did She find out?”

Sirius flinched at his brother mentioning his cursed biological mother. “No, I don’t know, I just… Ugh,” He growned in frustration. “Can you just—”

“Yeah, hang on, I’m coming.”

Ten minutes later, they were wandering down the street from the Potter manor to the city, not really with an actual destination, but simply to enjoy the fresh air and being able to talk freely. Sirius wasn’t quite sure how to bring this topic up, forming the words in his head and then dismissing them, insecure how they would sound. Was it stupid? It was probably stupid, he shouldn’t bother anyone with something like this, he shouldn’t even have started—

“Okay, mate, we’ve been walking for fifteen minutes straight now. I mean, I don’t mind at all, but… Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Sirius jumped at the thought. No, he could talk about things. It was good, he was good. It was okay to talk. “I want… your opinion on my little brother?” he started, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear nervously. “And maybe some advice, I don’t really know. Maybe I’m being crazy or overly protective—”

“Okay, Pads, just… stop for a second there.” James tugged at his sleeve, forcing Sirius, whose steps had become faster without him even realizing, to a stop. “You need to take a breather. Calm down and _then_ tell me what’s wrong.”

Sirius leaned back, running his fingers through his hair repeatedly, taking a deep, shaking breath before he started explaining everything. How Reg had agreed to come to his place for a couple days during winter break, which James of course already knew about because Sirius had happily told him in Hogwarts after Remus had arranged their alibi for Walburga. How he’d come to stay since Monday, four days ago, but had not in a single second let his guard down—even when talking to him, making it incredibly hard for Sirius to tell what was going on with him. How every night he could hear him making those little treacherous noises, giving away that his baby brother was having nightmares.

James just stared at him. “How is that weird, mate? It’s not like those nightmares aren’t understandable, right?”

“Yeah, no, of course I understand _why_ he has them,” Sirius hissed, trying and failing to put his hair into a little bun. He felt very uncomfortable about this conversation, knowing what James would think about this. “It’s just… I wonder why…” He looked around anxiously, even though there was no one near them. “I don’t know why he’s… _showing_ it. Back when we were at… when we were still in the same house, we would both just… control it. She did not like us having nightmares. Except for having to deal with why we actually had them, She also thought it made us… weak. And in Her opinion, a Black can’t be weak.”

James shot him a worried look, and Sirius sighed.

“Don’t worry, I’m not… I don’t think like that anymore. You tought me differently. But… it’s hard to break old patterns, you know?” He bit his lip. “I don’t know if Reg is like that at home, too, and if he is—I don’t want him to be alone when he deals with Her.”

He hadn’t even realized what he’d said until James gripped his arm firmly, staring into his eyes intently. “That is not your home, Sirius, you hear me? Never has been, never will be. You’re home with me, with our parents. Don’t let Her poison you.”

“I’m sorry, I know.” He smiled at his brother. “Like I said, old patterns. So what should I do? Do you have any ideas? I don’t wanna seem out of bounds, but… he is my brother and I just want him to be fine.”

“Okay, buddy, see—” James sighed, letting a warm hand rest on Sirius’s. “I don’t know how much I can help you with this. The only thing I see is… well, basically you. I don’t know what to tell you, except wait? You know, we had to wait with you, until you told us what was really going on. And Remus, remember him? I think he’s _still_ not quite okay with everything, and he still stutters sometimes; it just takes time.”

“I don’t have time!” Sirius hissed. “My brother is going back tomorrow evening because She wants to spend Christmas with the ‘family’,” he mocked, painting light airquotes in the air around him as he said the last word. “And Reg, he’s just… He’s the perfect son. He would never deny her; it already took forver to convince him to come here just for a couple days!”

“Right, this isn’t just the nightmares worrying you so much, right?” James gave him a soft, sad smile. “I know you by now, and I know how much you hate bad dreams, but… this is not the only thing, is it? There’s more to it.”

Sirius shrugged uncomfortably, tugging at a strand of black hair.

“Do you wanna tell me or just keep brooding about this like you used to before I so labourisly re-educated you?” James tugged at his sleeve. “Come ooon, Padfoot! You’re my brother, you can tell me whatever! I am here for you, remember? I swore it to you.”

A warmth filled Sirius that didn’t have anything to do with how hot James’s skin was on his. He remembered that moment like it was yesterday and he doubted he would ever forget it.

“I know.”

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable and I only want you to talk about this if you really want to,” James said firmly. “But if you do, if you feel like it’s important—or even if it’s not and you just want someone to listen to you—I’m _here_.”

Sirius hesitated, staring down at his feet, a cold, dreading feeling blooming in his stomach, spreading, ice filling his veins and his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. “There’s something else.” This felt wrong. He didn’t wanna do this… Did he? He could not stop talking. “Reg… he seems… wrong. There’s _something_ going on with him and I don’t… I can’t quite explain.”

“Okay.” James frowned. “Are you certain it’s not just—”

“I know, but… no. This isn’t just fear of going to Grimmauld Place anymore, this isn’t him being afraid of getting hurt. This is just… different. I can’t explain it, but I can _feel_ it.” Sirius let out a frustrated groan. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, I mean, you’ve been watching this kind of behvior for maybe a couple days—tops a week—now. It is possible that you’re just in a super protective mode because you haven’t seen him much… Which is completely valid, by the way,” James hurried to add.

Sirius waved a hand dismissively: he knew James didn’t mean anything negative by it.

“I won’t tell you how to act around your brother or what to do, but what I can say, is that you Black Brothers do not like it if someone’s pushing you.” Sirius scoffed and James jabbed him slightly in the ribs. “You know it’s true! So I’d say… relax a little and wait. Just for the time being, so you can figure stuff out. Maybe that’s just him changing and it’s all too much at once cause you’ve barely seen him lately. If you’re still sure by then that something else is going on, we can try and… investigate or something.”

Sirius still wasn’t very convinced, but talking to James always helped his anxiety. He just had that kind of energy around him, both thrilling and calming, having pulled him into his grasp the second he’d first seen him.

“Oh, that reminds me!” James added, a layer of concern in his voice now. “Has he said anything to you about… not wanting to go home?”—Sirius stiffened at that—“Because I told you, I wanna help him, too. This is not just because you’re my brother and I love you, _no one_ deserves to be treated like that. So if there’s anything I can do to help him; maybe I can…”

“Thank you.” Sirius smiled at him. “I know I can count on you, Prongs.”

“Always, Padfoot.”

Although maybe it wasn’t that clever for wizards of their young age at a time like this, they spent two more hours of that night walking around the city in a friendly banter now and then, mostly just enjoying each other’s company, planning some more pranks they would wanna pull after Christmas—“Not much longer and we’re in our seventh year! Those opportunities are slipping, Padfoot, we need to leave with a big bang!”—and how they would spend the next couple days (James was hoping for a little one-on-one Quidditch match on the huge lawn behind the manor, which Sirius honestly couldn’t say no to).

* * *

Christmas came and went in a flurry of coldness, snow, warm fireplaces and hot cocoa spiced with Rum—a courtesy of Fleamont, hopefully something Euphemia didn’t know about. Sirius had so much fun and felt so warm, safe and… _loved_ , during that time, that he almost, just almost, forgot his worries. Maybe James was right and all he felt was just some kind of instinct that told him he needed to protect his little brother, the want just forged in fire by the fact that he barely even saw him anymore and didn’t notice the little changes you could usually detect if you spent enough time with someone.

He also didn’t think a lot about it when the Potters brought him and James to King’s Cross Station where they were supposed to meet up with the other Marauders and he couldn’t find his brother in the masses of people. Regulus was quite a bit smaller than him and a lot of other people—he just couldn’t find him in such a hurry. That was alright, he was sure everything was fine.

Was he though?

A tiny, annoying bit of nagging Black She-monster voice was telling him that he was getting stupid and lazy; a coward for not even trying to find his little brother. He shook his head and followed James into a wagon, looking for the nearest and emptiest compartment.

It didn’t take long for Peter and Remus-finally-his-boyfriend-and-great-love-he-intended-to-marry-at-some-point-Lupin to find and join them. Remus looked paler than usual, dark circles under his eyes that looked like someone had punched him, and he seemed like he had lost a bit too much weight for someone who was supposed to stuff their stomach with every possible bit of delicious holiday dinner. However, his eyes lit up when he raised his head and looked at Sirius, making him feel dizzy and weak in the knees.

How did he manage… how had he _convince_ _d_ this perfect human being to give Sirius a chance?

It seemed like a miracle every time he saw him.

“How was your holiday?” Remus asked him, struggling to reach the luggage rack. Sirius reached over to take his suitcase and secure it for the drive. Remus gave him a smile that Sirius was sure would melt him at some point.

“Definitely better than yours, by the looks of it,” he teased, wrapping his arms around him and giving him a kiss. Remus kissed back, but then began struggling to get a distance between them, slapping him on the chest lightly, though Sirius could see just how flushed he was.

“N-not fair! It’s not like I chose how the nights I change are. F-first was the horror,” he muttered displeasedly, staring out of the compartments window and at the sky as if checking how many more nights he had left. “Merlin, I have missed Hogwarts and the Shreaking Shack.” Sirius grinned at him and—even though he was sure that wasn’t possible anymore—Remus was blushing even more. “And y-you, obviously, y-you g-guys.”

Peter just laughed while James gave a fake-exhausted scoff. “By Merlin’s bread and here I was thinking you’d just ditch all of us for Sirius now!”

“Well, you never know,” Remus said in that cocky voice and Sirius felt himself fall in love all over again.

“Alright now, but seriously,” Peter spoke up after they had all settled comfortably, Remus somehow having ended up cuddled against Sirius. “How was your holiday, all of you? My grandfather wanted me to go skiing…” He made a face, “but this time I said no right away.”

Remus gave him an honest, warm smile. “I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself!”

“Yeah, well done, Petey”, Sirius said, planting a kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead, closing his eyes shortly. He had _missed_ him.

“Well done, indeed, Wormtail” James chimed in. “Told you it gets easier with practice!”

“Yeah, not so much.” Peter grimaced, hugging himself. “Doing that I felt like Remus—Merlin, how do you deal with that? Stuttering is so… exhausting.”

Remus just laughed. “It’s not like that’s my favorite part of existing, but considering… I don’t know if I should complain.”

Sirius felt that weird protective surge again, wrapping his arm around Remus’s hip, pulling him closer. “You have got every reason to complain if you want to, got it? If anyone has the right to, it’s you. And we’ll be here to listen.”

“Absolutely!” James agreed and Peter nodded with a wide, supportive grin.

“Yeeah, I k-know.” Remus tugged at his sleeves, eyes turned downwards in a way that to everyone else may have seemed like defeat, but Sirius knew by now that it was simply him being shy. “Now, come on, what about you guys, what did you do? I’m quessing… wait, no. I’m _hoping_ you spent Christmas together?”

Sirius realized that Remus was trying to avoid talking about his own holiday, meaning he’d likely been having issues with his parents or the moon had been especially draining—which obviously was the case. He wanted to know if he was fine but knew pushing him wasn’t the way to get there. He’d just have to make sure he ate enough at dinner that night.

Sirius and James both told them about their little Quidditch game that kinda got out of hand when the normal ball they’d been using as a quaffle rushed past them, through the protective shields and charms and coincidentally hitting an unsuspecting muggle just outside. Fleamont had simply laughed at the story, but Euphemia wasn’t too pleased—though of course she’d had quite a problem trying to force back the smile tugging at her lips. Peter told a little bit more about his holiday as well—mostly stories about him and his mom baking and him shooting some amazing pictures he showed them—, while Remus just hung back, listening, a soft smile on his lips as he was playing with some Sirius’s black curls. At some point he fell asleep, looking more peaceful than Sirius had ever seen him before.

The worry started coming back up several hours later, basically punching him in the guts, when Sirius couldn’t see Reg _at all_ at the Slytherin table during dinner. He started squirming impatiently, trying to get a better look, hoping that maybe he’d just overlooked him. Remus, who could probably both feel and smell his anxiety, looked around, following his gaze, before slowly slipping a hand under the table to take his’. The touch both calmed him and made him more anxious at the same time—and how was that even possible?

“Sirius.” Remus voice was so soft, so quiet, close to his ear. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” He hesitated, glancing at James, who was in a deep conversation with Lily. He couldn’t help him right now even if he wanted to; that love-addled brain was of no use after he’d spoken to Evans for at least another hour. “Can you help me look for Reg? I’m not sure if maybe…”

Remus gave him a worried look, but didn’t ask. “Of course.”

It was of no avail. Maybe he’d just ditched dinner and had gone to bed early, but that seemed… wrong. Maybe—and at that thought it really felt like someone had slammed their fist into his stomach, making him feel sick—, maybe She had done something to him and he’d been injured before he could get here.

But no, that was impossible. Reg was the good one, the perfect son, always obedient and clever enough to just observe and only speak when spoken to. Besides, Kreacher wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him, would he? As much as he hated that creature, the house elf had always adored his little brother. He’d rather die than let anything happen to his little master Regulus Arcturus Black.

And still…

“You know what, I’m gonna catch up with you guys in the dorms, I’m not… not too hungry right now,” Sirius muttered, pushing his plate away and getting up shakily. Remus frowned.

“Do you need company?”

“No, I… I’m fine, I got this. Eat, Remy, or I swear I will stuff your face with chocolate cake—and not in the good, sexy kind of way. Pete, make sure he eats. I gotta go…”

James gave him a weird look, but only nodded before getting back to his talk with Lily. Honestly, if those two didn’t end up hooking up, Sirius did not know what was wrong with the universe and its alleged signs. He hurried through the Great Hall, down a side corridor and then up the stairs as quickly as possible, ignoring a Prefect’s angry shouts that he should “Stop the fuck running, Black!”. He stopped in front of the Hospital wing, suddenly not even sure if anyone was there.

That was silly, he’d been here before when She had broken his arm again right before he went back to Hogwarts so Pomfrey could heal it. There was always someone who needed a magical fix. He pushed the doors open carefully, taking a look around as he did so. There was no one there, every bed empty, the linens fresh and white and uncreased. He must’ve been wrong about his idea, which by some part calmed his accelerated heart beats incredibly, but also made him more anxious.

If Regulus wasn’t at the Hospital wing and he also wasn’t at dinner—then where the heck was he?

“What are you doing here, Mr Black?” Sirius flinched violently at the sudden question, his thoughts still darkened by memories of Her. Madam Pomfrey was standing in the doorway to her office, a frown on her face, obviously taking in his condition. “Is something… wrong?”

By now, most of his teachers knew that he lived with the Potters—just so certain letters didn’t land at Grimmauld Place anymore, and Fleamont and Euphemia would be contacted, should he be in any kind of trouble—but he didn’t know who exactly knew of the reason… and the real one at that. Obviously Dumbledore knew, from some of the looks of Professor McGonagall he’d gotten over the last year, he suspected her on the list of the Trusted as well. Maybe Madam Pomfrey also…

“Mr Black?” She didn’t sound accusing. Just a mixture of worried and curious.

“I’m just…” Sirius shook himself out of his daze. “I’m looking for my brother, Regulus Black. He wasn’t at King’s Cross and not at dinner either, I figured maybe—”

“You weren’t notified?” Pomfrey looked at him with a sort of surprise in her eyes that made Sirius uneasy. “Mr Black, your brother is sick. I don’t think it’s anything too bad since his parents notified us he would be here by tomorrow, but I suppose they wanted him to be treated at St Mungo’s.” Her lips curled slightly at that.

Sirius staggered, taken aback. Sick? Reg never got sick. Besides, what kind of illness could he catch that had to be treated at _St Mungo’s_ of all places? There was something… really wrong.

“Mr Black.” Madam Pomfrey’s voice sounded far away, blurred, distorted. “You don’t look so well yourself. Do you need—”

“No, I… I’m fine.” He drew his shoulders back, forcing an easy smile on his lips, forcing himself to be the Sirius people liked. The one he liked. Remembering what the Potters taught him, he added: “But, thank you. Good night.”

He turned around to leave without waiting for a response, wanting nothing more than to run and… fight someone, hurt something… hurt himself. He hated this part of him, hated that in the most horrible of rages he still felt that need somehow.

He could feel that he was working himself into a panic attack and forcibly slowed his breath even though it hurt. He also started walking more slowly now, breathing into his stomach as he went up the rest of the stairs to their dorms where the suitcases were already waiting next to their beds. Dinner wouldn’t be over for another fifteen minutes, so Sirius had at the very least twenty to gather himself.

He took the time to unpack and take a quick shower, his fingertips dancing over some of the scars, his mind uncontrollably going back to Regulus. What if he was hurt? What if She hurt him worse than she’d ever tried to hurt Sirius? It wasn’t likely, Reg was the good son after all.

And still, the thought of what could happen to him made him sick to the stomach and then the idea of him not being there to protect his baby brother… Bile rose up and he pressed a hand to his stomach, making a beeline to the loos and throwing up what little food was still in him.

Strangely enough, that made him feel a little better.

Sirius was already changed and in bed when the other Marauders came in—a little earlier than expected—bringing with them the smell of food and warmth and laughter. He was sitting up in his bed, drawing, and smiled at his friends when they came in. They all expressed their concern at his paleness but he promised them he was alright and after a round or two of Exploding Snap, they actually went to bed rather early; apparently feeling that Sirius wasn’t quite up for it. After nightfall, long after Spinnet and Struthers had come in and gone to bed as well, the curtains around Sirius’s bed opened a tiny bit, allowing a slender body to slip through and cuddle up next to him.

“You alright?” Remus spoke up quietly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sirius wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, snuggling up to him and burrowing his face in the crook of his neck. “I don’t think so. Not right now, anyways. I’m just a little worried. It’s fine.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me. at least,” Remus said in a low voice, obviously trying to cheer him up. “I even ate all the cake, I promise. You can ask Peter about it.”

Sirius couldn’t help but smile against Remus’s warm skin. “I believe you.”

For a bit, there was comfortable silence, Sirius relishing in the fact that he could finally cuddle with Remus like that again. Then Remus reached up, touching Sirius’s hand that was resting on his chest.

“I mean it, though, Sirius. I’m here for you. You can talk to me.”

“I know.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I know, I just—I can’t right now, I need to…”

“I know.” He couldn’t see Remus’s face what with him having his back turned to him and them being in the dark, but he could definitely hear the smile. “It’s fine. Just sleep.”

Sirius grip around him tightened. “You won’t leave?”

Remus stiffened. “I—”

“I don’t mind the nightmares. It’s not like I don’t have them, too.”

Remus slowly relaxed against him, closing his eyes in a bitter sweet kind of defeat. “Fine.”

It didn’t take long for Sirius to fall asleep, worries and nightmares haunting his dreams, though never quite waking him.

* * *

The morning wasn’t quite as easy—it started with Remus wriggling his way out of Sirius’s embrace and sliding out of the bed and into his own. Sirius groaned at the movement and a cold spot suddenly announcing his new residence at his chest where Remus’s shoulders had pressed against him just a couple moments ago. But it wasn’t like they could easily let someone see they had been sleeping in one bed together like that, and so he really shouldn’t complain.

He spent the early hour of morning before breakfast taking a long, hot shower and getting dressed; then, because he really felt like he couldn’t wait any longer, he said goodbye to Remus with a kiss and left the dorm, through the common room and out through the portrait into the hallways. He doubted he’d find his brother outside the dorms at this time but he couldn’t sit around waiting—patience really wasn’t his strong suit.

As he’d suspected, his brother wasn’t there, and the only ones already in the Great Hall were a couple early birds and some of the teachers, including the House teachers. He sat down as far away from everyone else as possible, not really in the mood of making conversation, and nibbling on some toast while waiting for the Hall to fill and his friends to arrive as well.

James gave him a strange look when they sat down next to him as if he knew exactly why Sirius was up and about this early. He always woke up early, but he rarely got up at that time as well. Peter, who seemed to have no clue, gave him an encouraging smile none the less and Remus nudged his shoulder against Sirius’s. He returned the smile and got back to observing the Slytherin table. He hadn’t watched in the last five minutes when his friends had arrived and looking back, Sirius was sure if he hadn’t looked at this moment exactly, it would’ve taken him a whole lot longer to find his brother.

Regulus just leaned over Mulciber, grabbed a toast and swiftly turned around again, apparently wanting to leave the Great Hall as quickly as possible.

“You know what, I’ll be right back,” Sirius sad, swinging his legs over the bench and getting up, his eyes still on his little brother. “Or I’ll just catch up with you in Astronomy.”

“No, pads, come on,” James protested, grabbing his sleeve. “First day back and you wanna skip class? And then without us?”

Sirius gave him a stern look. “It won’t take long, I promise. I’ll see you later.”

He could feel Remus’s looks in his back as he hurried through the hall and after his brother who had to have just left. He took after him, expecting having to chase him, but to his own surprise, his brother wasn’t as fast and light as usual. Normally, even with Sirius’s long legs, it was a challenge going after Reg who was fast, a light-weight and a good runner. This time, though, he was slow, almost sluggish as soon as he left the Hall, trudging through the hallways and up the stairs as if walking alone was agony.

All this didn’t exactly calm Sirius down regarding his worries about Her having done something, and he took a few long strides to catch up with his brother.

“Reg,” he called out and got a flinch as a response. “Reg, hey—come on. It’s me.”

“Yeah, I know.” He seemed so cold, so empty, so repellent. “What’s up?”

“What… what’s up?” Sirius blinked in surprise, taking in his brother’s state. He was a lot paler than usual, and that was saying something. “Reg, I—I was looking for you everywhere! You weren’t there yesterday, what… what happened? Where have you been? Why didn’t you send an owl or something?”

“Well, I can’t exactly use my owl that my parents check every time she leaves to send you a private message, now can I?” Regulus hissed, shooting his brother a dark look. “That damn thing is only loyal to Mother and Father, it’d rather bite me than do what it was bought for.”

Sirius frowned. He wasn’t exactly used to his brother talking like that, and he didn’t like that he still referred as his parents to Them. “Reg… _Where were you?_ ”

“Mom decided a dinner with the Malfoys to talk about Narcissa’s union with that slimebag Lucius couldn’t be postponed,” Regulus said with a bitter smile. “I can’t wait til they start blabbering about who I am supposed to spend the rest of this fucked up life with.”

Something deep in Sirius hurt at those words. Yet he couldn’t stop himself, he needed to know. “I know that’s not the truth, Reg,” he said softly and his brother rolled his eyes, turning away to keep walking. He shot out his hand, grabbing Reg’s upper arm. “I searched for you yesterday and I was told you were at St Mungo’s… If… if She did something to you, then you gotta tell me. You can tell me the truth and we can figure it out together.”

“Oh, really?” Regulus snarled and broke away. “Because as far as I know, you’re not even there! You disappeared to the Potter’s and now you’re basically their family—just be happy that you’re gone. It’s not like you’re ever coming back, so stop pretending like you care!”

Every single word hurt and Sirius found it difficult to breathe. “Reg—”

“Just… stop it,” Reg growled, turning away again. “Maybe it’ll get better when you stop contacting me and Mother won’t get so angry anymore and she’ll stop watching my every step. Maybe then I actually have a chance to… to succeed.”

“To succeed at what? Are you working on a way to get out? To—”

Regulus was beginning to walk away again and in a surge of fear and desperation, Sirius reached out to grab his wrist. Reg let out a sharp hiss and his face twisted in pain for just a second, before he managed to control himself and he was a cold, marble mask again. Sirius winced, immediately letting go, worry eating him up from the inside, actually physically hurting him.

“Reg…,” he whispered, but his brother simply shook his head, tugging at his sleeve as if the fabric would protect him. “Reg, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I gotta go,” Regulus said, looking at his brother with a frown. “You should stop speaking to me in the hallways where just anyone could see us. I have a couple new friends in Slytherin and they would not be happy my traitor of a brother is trying to have an actual relationship with me.” He turned around and hurried away as quickly as possible.

Sirius stood there, in the middle of the hallway, just staring at the spot where his baby brother had just stood. He felt strangely dizzy and lightheaded… not sure how to even put one foot in front of the other. His heart started beating way faster and irregularly, a cold sweat forming on his brow—his typical signs of a panic attack coming up. This time he wasn’t sure he’d be able to breathe through. This… all of this… it seemed utterly wrong.

He staggered back a little, only to feel a warm arm slip around his shoulders.

“Pads—” James didn’t even need to say anything else. He could clearly feel that something was wrong. He could feel his friends crowding around him, expressing their worry, but he couldn’t talk about it, not now, not in this very moment. He shook his head, wriggling free of James’s embrace, not sure he could handle touch at the moment.

“I’m okay,” he croaked out, clearing his throat and blinking rapidly. “I’m okay, let’s just… let’s go to class. I’ll tell you later. I promise,” he added, seeing Remus’s worried amber eyes resting on him. “I promise, alright? Let’s just go.”

Astronomy, as well as all of the other classes on that day, were spent in a daze and Sirius relied heavily on his genius boyfriend and his perfect, accurate notes, barely even paying attention when Flitwick taught them a new, pretty useful charm. He wasn’t really hungry at lunch or supper and Remus, James and Peter literally had to force him to eat at least a sandwich. He felt the same, weird daze clinging onto him for the next couple of days, more than one week passing by without him even properly realizing.

He was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and the red curtains around it, letting his wand dance around his fingers. The curtain opened a bit and Remus slipped through, cuddling up next to him. He looked worse than usual and Sirius realized with a pang of guilt he’d been so caught up in his own problems he hadn’t realized the full moon was coming up and Remus would be shifting tomorrow night.

“Hey,” he murmured, slinging one arm around Remus’s hip and looking into those tired, soft, amber eyes. “How was it with Miss Fawley?”

Remus growned, closing his eyes and rubbing his temple. “Let’s just say—be glad you’re a natural Occlumens.”

“Hmm,” Sirius made, inching closer, making Remus shudder. “How are you?”

“Aside from this fucking headache?”

“No, I mean—”

“I know what you mean.” Remus smiled at him. “Just teasing. I’m good, just… tired, you know. You don’t have to keep asking me how I’m doing every time before the full though, I think by now it should be etched into your brain.”

“Yeah, well, I doubt I’ll ever stop asking,” Sirius whispered, kissing him.

* * *

By now the Marauders were pretty good at their routine when Remus had the ‘furry little problem’, as James fondly called it to tease Remus, coming up. Of course, no one could know just what exactly the friends were doing to help Moony get through the transformations without completely destroying himself. No one could even know they knew about him being a werewolf.

So they had developed a system: at least one, if not all of them, would go to the Hospital wing to ask for Remus during those days—just to keep the disguise of him being too sick to attend classes and instead being stuck in bed.

Of course, they knew that Remus was allowed to spend the days in the Shrieking Shack, mostly sleeping and healing up—(Remus had told them a couple times that in the winter months there was barely any time for resting before he would transform again and Sirius did not like him being all alone, but there it was)—but since they officially didn’t know that, they had to keep pretending.

This time Sirius would be the one checking in.

James and Peter were already pretty tired in classes, although they kept up a good front, but Sirius had been jumpy and uneasy for weeks and couldn’t even think of being exhausted; his brother’s image still behind his eyes every time he closed them—giving material to his nightmares. It was the third day already and Remus should be back in the afternoon, but just to be safe. So, after Transformation, he said goodbye to the other Marauders and got on his way.

He hadn’t expected anything… at all. Madam Pomfrey gave her usual answer of Remus being too tired and too sick to see anyone, he put up a little argument just for cover’s sake, and as he turned to leave, he caught sight of the smaller, thin body sitting up in one of the beds, staring at the wall as if waiting. Sirius’s breath hitched and he turned around, walking up to him.

“Reg,” he said and his brother flinched violently. “Reg, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Language,” Regulus mocked him with a bitter smile on his lips, but that couldn’t keep Sirius from detecting just how pale he’d gotten at seeing him. “What would mother think of you?”

“I don’t care,” Sirius growled, worry rising up in him and threatening to spill over in form of violence. “I told you… If they did anything to you, you can tell me. You _have_ to tell me! How else am I supposed to—”

“Supposed to what? Huh? To protect me?” Regulus let out a dark laugh, letting a shiver run down Sirius’s spine. This was… wrong. Something about all of this seemed off. “How is that supposed to work, hm? Are you gonna… what? Come back in a whoosh and just… abduct me? Take me somewhere _safe_?”

“I told you, I can get you to the Potter’s,” Sirius said in a hushed voice. “They offered you the same they gave me! They can help you—”

“No, they can’t, don’t be ridiculous!” Reg tugged at his sleeve, as if straightening it out, and swung his legs over the bedside, getting up and walking past Sirius. “Mother already lost her first heir to the do-gooders and it is _really_ a miracle she didn’t turn up there to claim you. But she would never ever let me go. I think she’d rather kill me than lose the last son she has to someone else.”

“I can think of something,” Sirius protested passionately, shaking his head. “I can—”

“JUST STOP IT!” Sirius had never heard Regulus yell before and this was so out of character for him that he actually winced. Reg hesitated, looking around the Hospital wing and then hurrying out the door. Sirius followed him. “You really don’t get it, do you? _You got lucky_. What else do you want?”

“I want you to be safe and happy—”

“Well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you just up and left,” Regulus hissed, his words full of hatred and disgust in a way scarily similar to Her. “You left me before, what’s stopping you from doing it now? Just walk away and don’t look back, just like you did before.”

Sirius didn’t like talking about _that_ night, but he wasn’t sure he could convince his brother any other way. He bit his lip nervously, trying to figure out a way to put his words. “It’s not like I had a choice,” he finally said quietly, looking around anxiously but no one was in the hallway. “I barely got out.”

“Yes, but you did,” Regulus interrupted him. “You did get out, and you didn’t bother looking back. So why now? Why do you care when you obviously didn’t before?”

“I _care_ ,” Sirius whispered helplessly. When had this gone so horribly wrong? What had happened?

“Okay, maybe you care.” Regulus nodded slowly, his eyes narrowed. “Maybe you actually do care, but do you ever just once think about the consequences to your actions?”

“Of course, I…”

“No, I don’t think so!” Reg hissed. “You are Sirius Orion Black. You’ve never fit in and you didn’t care what anyone would do to you if you defied them or angered them! I think you actually liked it! You always push, always just a little more, like… like it’s fun for you, seeing where their breaking point is. You do incredibly reckless things and then you’re surprised that the consequences for that aren’t all that pleasant and fun! You _never_ follow a rule, you simply don’t care, you disrespect. You always reach for things _this_ high and don’t stop to wonder if things could go terribly wrong, not only for you but for the people around you as well! Rules are there for a reason! If you’d ever just thought about that and rebelled in silence instead of always doing what you want and defying every logic—maybe then mother never would’ve tried to punish you the way she did. Then you’d never have left and I wouldn’t be stuck at this place, _alone_.”

But Sirius had stopped listening, his eyes fixated on that place on Regulus’s wrist. He had made a gesture to prove his point about Sirius always trying to reach high. At that movement, the sleeve of his uniform had slipped up a little, showing what was laying beneath.

It was a long scar, thick and bulging and ugly, looking kinda red and inflamed, like it was still infected. It reached from the pulse point just beneath his wrist way up, to the middle of his lower arm, and Sirius thought he might throw up right there and then.

“Reg,” he whispered, unable to actually give the terror flooding his mind a name. “What are you—”

Regulus followed his gaze and violently tugged at the sleeve, pulling it up almost to his fingertips, slightly paling. “None of your damn business anymore,” he snarled and turned to leave, but Sirius grabbed him by the uniform, not wanting to touch his wrist or arm.

“Reg, please, I beg of you,” he pleaded, “talk to me. _Please_. Tell me what happened, make me understand.”

Reg hesitated, looking around. There was no one there. Just for a second Sirius thought he’d let down his guard, talk to him the way they’d used to, but…

“Don’t pretend like you care,” he growled, his eyes cold like stone. “I can’t take this hipocrosy anymore! Why can’t you just be happy and leave it at that—why do you need to make this complicated for both of us? All of us?”

“Reg, please.” Sirius hated how broken he sounded, his voice quivering. “Please, I just wanna be there for you—”

“WELL, BUT YOU’RE NOT!” Regulus shouted, his voice echoing in the hallway and his eyes burning with an icy fire Sirius had never seen before. “You’re not there and you haven’t been for a long time! I don’t see why you’d care now, because, obviously, you haven’t for too long. Do you even know how it works anymore? Do you still know who I am?”

“Of course I do—”

“No, SHUT UP!” Regulus shook his head. “This time, you are not gonna interrupt and you are not gonna say what you want just to see what reaction it provokes. This time, you can’t just get away with this and pretend it never happened because ‘oh, it’s just some good old fun, who cares?’ You don’t know me anymore, and sometimes I think it’s for the best. Who would want a selfish, self-absorbed brother like _you_?”

Every word stung, like little knifes digging into him, twisting inside of him, multiplying the pain. Sirius wasn’t sure he still knew how to breathe.

“Because you are, you really are. You just _left!_ ” Reg’s voice started shaking and for the first time in so long, Sirius saw tears threatening to spill. “Do you even know what you did when you left? What you’ve done to this family, to me?! Mother was blind with rage when she found out where you’d gone, she burned out your name from the family tree, and then she… she let it all out on me.” Reg let a single, strangled sob escape his throat and he blinked violently. “I don’t think it would’ve ended good for me if it wasn’t for Kreacher. Oh, he sure punished himself afterwards, and now _that_ is my fault. He liked me too much for his own good. Apparently, that is a common theme in our family,” he added harshly.

Sirius could feel tears in his eyes as well, pricking at the corners, a lump in his throat, making it hard to breathe.

“You know, after all this time, I’d always thought… I was a good son, wasn’t I? I was a good, patient son, I followed every rule and every order, I got sorted into Slytherin, I made all the right friends, I followed mother’s suggestions to the dot. I listened to their pureblood-mania, I watched without saying a word when they did… questionable things. I _waited_. I waited because I was so sure that good things would come out of it, that finally, in the end, I would profit. I didn’t… want much,” he admitted, his voice strained and high pitched, radiating pain. “You know, after everything that happened, I would’ve just been happy with someone… anyone… of my family being there for me, caring for me as a person, telling me they were proud of me. I thought… maybe you’d be that person. But you were so caught up in stirring trouble: getting sorted into Griffindor—”

“That wasn’t my choice, it was the Hat’s,” Sirius contradicted with a painfully restricted throat, knowing that that wasn’t fully the truth.

“—making friends with people like the Potter’s, blood traitors, and halfbloods like Lupin and Pettigrew, knowing exactly that’d piss off our parents. Constantly causing problems and pulling pranks, disrespecting teachers and members from families we were taught to always be friendly with… decorating your room the way you did, just to annoy them. You supported and kept in contact with Andromeda, and you knew exactly that’d make mother even more furious.”

“Andy is a good person, she deserves support—”

“And even now!” Regulus clapped his hands in an abrupt movement, eyes wide and bright with suppressed tears. “Even now you continue to avoid any kind of responsibility. Why can’t you see that you didn’t do all of these things because they seemed right—but because you actively wanted to show just how much of a black sheep you are and because you wanted to anger our parents? This isn’t about anyone else, never has been. This is all about _you_ , as always.”

“That’s not true,” Sirius whispered, but Regulus just continued.

“I mean, obviously I got the confirmation for that when you just left without saying a word or sending a letter, even. That was weird, you know, walking into you after the Winter holiday, not even _knowing_ what had happened or where you lived? To be honest, I should have just not cared about it, but I just couldn’t help it. I’m sure some part of me will always look up to you, always wait for you to say the words I’ve been waiting for… forever. But you won’t, because you will always be caught up with some stuff with your friends or a prank, because—naturally, that’s important.”

He stopped to take a deep breath, raking his fingers through his black hair. He’d cut it short and left a fringe. It suited him that way.

“And you know, the funny thing with mother is, I always thought with everything happening… the way she punished us, well, more you, when we did something wrong, that she kinda got it right. And that she simply meant well.” Regulus smiled softly, his eyes full of sadness. “I was sure that in her own weird, twisted way she was preparing us for the world. That she loved us and was simply driven mad by you always rebelling.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Sirius whispered. “Let Her brainwash me into thinking Her ideals are good?”

“No, you idiot,” Reg snapped. “But you didn’t need to rub it in her face every time possible. It would’ve made a lot of things easier. Why didn’t you just… rebell in silence?”

“That’s not how it works—”

Regulus shook his head dismissively. “Anyways, I thought with you gone, maybe she’d calm down. See that there’s still a lot of good things to this situation. I never did anything to displease her—with you gone, she had to calm down, right? I thought maybe she’d let me do my own things for once, let me decide on what people I spent time with, what subjects I’d study, which person I’d marry.” He shuddered slightly. “Instead she got meaner and darker and more controlling. She decided my every move, like I was some kind of… some kind of chess piece.” He flared his nostrils in disgust. “My own mother… didn’t care about me as a person, as her son. She simply used me for alliances, for political strategies. I felt… empty. Like I wasn’t really a person, more of a shell. An empty shell, simply used by people instead of ever cared for.”

“Is that when you—” Sirius didn’t dare say it out loud and gestured to Reg’s arm.

His baby brother paled even more, eyes bloodshot. “I used a dark curse,” he said with a cold voice, clearly not looking for sympathy. It sounded almost like… triumph. “You know, a lot of people say you can’t use your own wand in violence against yourself. It doesn’t want you to get hurt.” He smiled darkly. “It’s really quite a thing—just what you can force your wand to do.”

Sirius was sure he’d die on th spot. He had never felt this cold, clammy, empty, terrified. He felt like screaming but couldn’t force one sound past his lips. He felt like running, far, far away, but it was like his legs were frozen. “Why…,” was all he managed to croak out.

Regulus shrugged. “I didn’t want mother to be able to heal it just like that. I wanted a safe exit.” A shadow crossed his face. “As you can see, it didn’t work out. St Mungo’s was quite unnerved, though.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“Yeah, no shit, brother!” Reg snapped, making Sirius flinch involuntarily. “I wanted out. I wanted to be gone. When no one cares about you, everyone treats you like you’re an object—in a world where you can’t get a kid out of their abusive household because of precious _politics_ … why bother? It’s not like things would be looking up for me. I told you I made some new friends. Friends I don’t like, and they don’t like me—again, they use me. Because I’m a Black! I’m useful material in politics and strategies. Because, apparently, that’s how I identify these days. I’m a Black. I’m useful. No one cares who I am as long as that is my family name.”

Silent tears left tracks on Sirius’s cheeks, feeling hot and cold at the same time. His heart was racing, beating so fast and loud he was sure someone had to hear it. He felt shaky and… just not safe, like he was gonna collapse at any point. He was sure he would, and soon.

Reg stared at him for another second, then turned around and left. Sirius stood there, wanting to stop him, wanting to hug him, to wipe away his tears and tell him that he was there, that he would protect him, that he could figure something out. That he loved him, and that he was proud of him. And that he would always be his little brother.

But he could not move.

* * *

Looking back at it, Sirius was sure that they must’ve been giving a weird picture to anyone stopping by. A pile of four boys huddled on one bed, three of them trying to comfort a shaking, sobbing, helpless idiotic asshole who couldn’t even take on the simple task of caring for his brother, also called Sirius Orion Black.

Lucky for them, it was still pretty early in the evening and Spinnet and Struthers were out somewhere, probably waiting near the Great Hall for supper or studying in the library. Sirius didn’t really care. He felt broken.

“It’s my fault,” he whispered again and again against the already soaking fabric of James’s t-shirt, feeling Remus’s hand in his and Peter’s and James’s on his back. “It’s my fault, I… I didn’t stop and think, and now he… now he’s—”

“This is not your fault,” James said gently, rubbing circles on his back. “I promise you. No one could see something like this coming, especially with your brother.”

Sirius let out a whimper. “But I should’ve seen it. I could’ve done something—”

“There is literally nothing you could have done to prevent those things from happening,” Remus spoke up, his voice frail and tired, but his hand tightened. Sirius squeezed back. “And your brother is very quiet, very withdrawn. Not even a person being with him the entire time could’ve seen this coming.”

“He… he m-made some pretty good points,” Sirius pressed, almost choking on the lump in his throat, more tears threatening to spill. “I… I left him and I didn’t look back, I was selfish—”

“Hey, no.” James’s voice was sharp and cool, level-headed. He’d been shocked when he first heard about Reg, but now he’d obviously taken on the role of comforting Sirius. “Getting the Hell outta there when they were basically trying to murder you? That is not selfish. That was probably one of the best decisions you’ve ever made.”

“He said he made some new… friends,” Sirius whispered, closing his eyes against the utter despair and fear and pain. “Some Slytherin friends, purebloods, probably older than him. I’m worried, he’ll—”

“Yeah, me too,” Remus muttered and Sirius could feel James nod against him.

“I just… I wish I could make all of this… _go away_. Make it disappear, like it never happened. So I could have a new chance with him—so that Reg could have a new chance. So he could have the life he deserves instead of fate dealing him one he wants to… to end.” The last word almost burned his throat.

Silence settled, then someone shifted uncomfortably.

“You know…” Peter spoke up nervously, “that’s actually not impossible, right?”

Sirius’s head shot up and he turned around to stare at his friend demandingly. Peter gave a surprsied squeak, blushing when he realised everyone else was looking at him, too.

“I was just… thinking about some of the spells we learned,” he said, lowering his voice. “And since Moony is so good at this stuff, maybe he’d be able to change a bit…”

“Pete, what the fuck are you talking about?” James asked impatiently and Peter shrieked quietly.

“Th-the Oblivioté spell or something? Flitwick started it last week, he talked a lot about how things can go terribly wrong—”

“Obliviate,” Remus murmured, more to himself than anyone else, but Sirius already stared at him with pleading eyes, so much despair and barely concealed hope in them, it hurt. “Yeah, that’s a powerful spell, but Sirius, you don’t wanna do that.”

“Why not?”, the other Marauders chorused and Remus could’ve slapped them all right there and then.

“Because, as Peter so friendly reminded us, it is a dangerous spell! A billion things could go wrong! Also, the spell is supposed to be used when there is an actual danger or at least to protect someone. And then there—” He hesitated, not liking bringing up this topic knowing how much some people had to deal with that. But it had to be said. He groaned. “Then there’s the fact that it’s completely without the other person’s consent. It’s basically abuse. You can’t just do that to an innocent person!”

Sirius had paled at the last bit, but he looked different than before. Like he’d actually already decided this. “Would it help him, though?”

“Well, I doubt he’d be the happiest person alive,” Remus grumbled. “And this would mean not only erasing some memories like the one’s of his parents. It’d have to be all of them. He’d have to live as a muggle. He can’t be known as a Black, he can’t be around dangerous people who could drag him into this war—that’s what you want, right?”

Sirius hesitated, but he still nodded.

“Then that would mean taking… almost all of his memories. You’d be leaving him blank, like a canvas. It is true that he’d have the opportunity to start anew, but… this is more than just stupifying someone for an hour or two. This is… You’d have to live with that knowledge forever. And I doubt taking away those memories would stop making him feel the way he does. Those are deep-rooted issues, y-you know—w-we all know that’s not exactly how it works.”

Sirius bit his lip.

“But if it’s a chance like this…,” James said quietly.

“Well, actually, I think Reg would still do a lot better in the muggle world than here,” Peter said, tapping a finger against his chin in thought. “I told you before my uncle was dealing with some pretty intense issues? There are doctors for the mind—shrinks—for muggles. I heard they’re actually not terrible… They could help your brother figure some stuff out, right?”

Remus frowned at the idea and Sirius knew where it was coming from, he really did. He didn’t exactly like the idea either, but the more he talked about it, the more shape this plan began to take. He looked up at his boyfriend, knowing he already knew what he’d be asking him for.

“Can you change it?”, he asked. “Can you make the spell work so strongly it will make him forget… all the terrible things that happened to him? Everything that makes him feel the way he feels, act the way he acts?” Each and every word broke his heart into more pieces, knowing that would mean erasing him as well, but he couldn’t… he could not let his brother die because people were assholes.

Because he didn’t pay attention.

Remus could see it in his eyes, he was sure of it. He sighed, his head drooping in tiredness, sadness emanating from him. “Fine,” he said. “We can practise. I don’t like this, at all. It breaks my heart. But I will help you. Just… not tonight, I’m tired.”

* * *

It took two months for them to manage the spell perfectly. Two months that Sirius spent walking on eggshells around his brother, watching his every move and every conversation he had, wanting to memorize him so well he could draw him just by thinking of him. He hurt in his entire body just thinking what he’d do to him.

Remus decided they would be good at the end of March. Obviously, they didn’t have a test subject, but Remus was sure it should work out. They had all worked on it, just in case, but it had been clear in the beginning that Sirius would be the one to do the job. They had chosen the day they would be leaving for Easter holidays. Obviously, it wasn’t planned for Regulus to leave, but they would make it happen. They had a good plan, but all Sirius could worry about were his last moments with his brother.

It hurt.

In every fiber of his being, it hurt.

It hurt so much tears pricked at the corners of his eyes; it hurt so much he wanted to scream.

But instead, he crossed the almost empty yard and walked straight up to Regulus who was waving goodbye to someone getting in one of the carts that would be driving them back to the train. He grabbed his arm and pulled him into a corner nearby where no one could see them. He could feel his friend’s eyes in his back and knowing that they were there made him feel a tiny bit better about what he was going to do.

“What’s that supposed to be?2 Regulus hissed impatiently, tugging at his uniform—as always wanting to look impeccable. _Not for much longer._ “Are you lurking now, brother?”

It hurt so much.

He smiled at him, shaking his head. “I wanted to tell you… you’re right,” he said. He had to say goodbye. He owed him that. “I was a terrible brother and I didn’t take care of you as much as I should’ve. But I also… wanted to tell you, that… you don’t have to look for those things in Her or anyone else. I love you, Reg.” He forced himself not to let the tears spill, the tears so desperately trying to claw its way out. His throat hurt from having to talk around the lump and not giving into the desire to bawl his eyes out. “I love you, so much, and I am proud of you. I want you to know that.”

“I—”

Sirius didn’t wait for a response, not sure just how much longer he could take this, and reached for his wand in his embrace. He felt like the tears built up in him would let him burst soon, but when he brought up the wand to his brother’s head behind him, his hand was steady, and his voice was calm.

“Obliviate.”

**Author's Note:**

> Does this mean I deserve 'Emperor of Angst' as a role....?
> 
> PS: Felix, I hope you're suffering.


End file.
